


This Message Will Not Self-Destruct

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Banter, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: Mulder proposes to Scully in a way that won't inspire an "Oh, brother".





	This Message Will Not Self-Destruct

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-"Je Souhaite", pre-"Requiem"  
> A/N: For a prompt on tumblr.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

He slid a manila envelope across the table to her.

“What’s this?” she said in that grumbly tone that meant she was both suspicious and intrigued.

He shrugged. “Open it.”

“It better not be a burned DVD of Caddyshack from a shady street vendor,” she said.

He shrugged again, with the slight smile that he knew would drive her crazy.

She flattened her hand over it. “It’s not very thick.”

“That’s what she said,” he joked. 

She smirked, running the tip of her tongue over her lips. “In this case, that’s not what she said.”

He whistled appreciatively. 

“Seriously, Mulder, what is this?” she asked a little bit plaintively, her hand still pressed to the envelope.

He hitched his shoulders around his ears. “You tell me.”

“It’s a stupid prank,” she grumbled.

“It might be,” he said. “Is that your hypothesis, Doctor Scully?”

“My hypothesis is that you’re messing with me,” she said. “And I’ve got years of evidence to support it.”

“If you want to let your confirmation bias taint your investigation, that’s up to you,” he said. 

She squinted at him. “So I should just forget the last eight years or however long it’s been.”

“Up to you,” he said. “It’s your call, Agent.”

“You’re definitely messing with me,” she said. “Is anything going to pop out when I open it?”

“That depends,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “But you’ve already established there’s nothing thick.”

“Is it nothing?” she asked, deadpan. “Is this just an exercise in making the time we spend together in this inadequately furnished office a little more interesting for you and a little more exasperating for me?”

“Maybe it’s a desk requisition form,” he suggested.

“That’s thick,” she said dismissively. “I’ve seen that paperwork. Tickets to Battlefield Earth. No, Mission Impossible 2. Neither of which I want to see, by the way.”

“MI2 tickets haven’t been released yet,” he said. “But if you’re in a movie mood, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

“Is it a letter of reference for when Skinner finally gets tired of us?” she asked.

“No, but now that you mention it, I could use one when you’ve got a minute,” he said. 

“Are you going to tell me?” she asked.

“Why would I tell you what it is when you could just open it?” he asked.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mulder, but I’m not big on surprises,” she said.

“I had noticed,” he told her. “Trust me?”

“With my life, yes, absolutely without question,” she said. “With a strange envelope prank, no.”

“Fair enough,” he told her. 

“I’m not opening it,” she said.

“Up to you.” He shrugged. He was definitely getting a shoulder workout in.

“So we’re agreed,” she said, sitting back in her chair. The envelope lay innocently on the desk between them, its tan surface unsmudged by years of interoffice use. Mulder rummaged in the desk drawer for a pencil and tried to toss it into the ceiling. It bounced off and dislodged a second pencil, but he managed to catch it before it hit him in the face. The other pencil broke its point on the envelope and clattered onto the desk. Mulder tried again. This time it stuck. He picked up the desk pencil and began to sharpen it carefully, blowing the shavings away.

“Is it alive?” Scully said at last.

“If you want to know, you’ll have to open it,” he said.

She looked away, tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. “You know they say curiosity is the number-one cause of feline decease.”

“And yet,” he countered, “satisfaction appears to have a revivifying effect.”

“So I’ll be a zombie, but at least I’ll be happy?” she asked.

“Only if you’re a cat,” he said. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here, Scully, but I think I would have noticed if you were a cat.”

She let the silence stretch out between them for a few more minutes and then picked up the envelope suddenly and undid the clasp with deft fingers. “There’s nothing in here.” She shook the envelope and it rattled. Mulder raised his eyebrows. Glaring at him preemptively, Scully reached into the envelope. Her eyebrows went up, arching in surprise. She withdrew her hand. Between her fingers was a ring, glinting under the fluorescent lights. 

“What is this?” she asked.

“I’m not a scientist,” he said, “but it would appear to be some kind of metal circle. Possibly with rocks on it.” 

“What the hell is this?” she repeated. 

“I was looking for a way to do it that wouldn’t get me an ‘oh brother’,” he said. “Mad is better than a brushoff.” He pushed back in his wheeled chair and scooted his way around the desk, turning to meet her. He rolled closer, until their knees brushed, and took her hand. 

“Is this an engagement ring?” she asked, her voice snagging on the words.

“I don’t need an answer now,” he told her, stroking the back of her hand. “I don’t need an answer next week or next year, even. I just wanted you to know.”

“Mulder, after the year we’ve had,” she said softly. “Leaving aside the fact that we aren't even dating in any official capacity. Between your brain trauma and the IVF and Samantha and all the rest of it. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“In a way, it was the brain trauma that made me sure,” he said. “I knew everything, Scully. I saw all these possible futures, and the one I wanted was with you. The one I want is with you.”

“Diana?” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. 

“Is it going to happen again?” she asked. “Any other wily brunettes from your past waiting in the wings?”

“No,” he said. 

“Promise?” she asked.

“Cross my heart,” he said. 

“Don’t hope to die,” she said softly.

“No,” he agreed. “That’s not what I’m hoping, Scully.”

“We went through all of this and we still won’t have any children,” she said.

“That’s all right,” he told her. “I’ve had my share of miracles.”

“I thought you were looking for one more,” she teased.

“Can you blame me?” he asked. “I spent my whole life looking.”

“And now?” she asked.

“Just one more,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips. “Although it’s been hiding in plain sight for years.”

She studied him with blue eyes that shone. 

“I’ll consider it,” she said at last.

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said.

“It isn’t…,” she began, and then shut her mouth and looked at him with a slightly helpless expression. “It would be everything we’ve never had to negotiate.”

“We’ve managed so far,” he said. “I’ve got faith in us.”

“I do too,” she said softly. 

“If I told you I loved you right now, what would happen?” he asked. 

“Try it and see,” she said. 

“Quid pro quo, huh,” he said. 

She shrugged. “It’s only fair.”

He took a deep breath. “I love you. I’m not drugged. I’m not a clone or a doppelganger or me from an alternate timeline. I think that covers it.”

“Body swap?” she suggested.

“I solemnly swear I am not bodyswapped,” he said.

“That’s good,” she said. “I love you.”

“Are you drugged?” he asked.

“Not that I know of,” she said. “And I’m not pushing you.”

“Good,” he said. “I figured, since you hadn’t gotten into painting recently.”

She held up her hand and he cupped his palm to catch the ring as she dropped it. She splayed her fingers wide, waiting. He picked up the ring and slipped it gently onto her hand. She turned it, watching it catch the light. 

“So far it’s a nice thought,” she said. 

“Good,” he said. “I had a theory it might be.”

“You had a hypothesis,” she corrected. “But you weren’t reasoning ahead of your data.”

“You did kiss me at New Year’s,” he said. “That was encouraging.”

“I kissed you back,” she said. “There were…other times that I initiated.”

“I remember them fondly and hope to repeat the experiences soon,” he said.

“This might be your lucky day,” she said with a smile. “Will you unclasp my necklace?” She turned in her chair, brushing the hair away from the nape of her neck, though it was so short the gesture wasn’t really necessary. He undid the clasp and eased the chain from her neck. She turned back and held out her hand again and he took the ring off, sliding it onto the chain to lie next to her cross.

“This isn’t about you either,” she said, putting the necklace back on. The ring was barely visible, just another glint of gold behind the crisp white edges of her shirt.

“I know,” he told her. “But when you’re under constant surveillance, one location is as good as another.”

She smiled at him. “I’m sure They already knew. But our coworkers are another story.”

“And here I was sure you were gonna win the pool,” he said.

“Who says I didn’t?” she countered. 

He scoffed in mock outrage. “Then I think you owe me dinner, Agent Scully.”

“I do,” she said, tilting her face up, the glint of victory in her eyes. “Tonight?”

“I’m free forever,” he said casually, rolling back around the desk.

“Forever will do,” she told him.


End file.
